One to Six, Buckle to Sticks (Grasshopper Lawns Book 11) Read online

  ‘Heavens, whatever have you been doing?’ she exclaimed and he shot her an impatient look.

  ‘Ask Missus Hobbes,’ he snapped and with a twitch of his head indicated the woman wringing her hands in the corner, who was looking both distressed and slightly defiant. Edge had seen her once or twice before in the dining room, a pleasant older woman with a kind face and rather haphazard dress-sense, who had moved to the Lawns just before Christmas.

  ‘Oh Mr MacDonald, I said I’m sorry! But I only ever let her off the lead when there are no other dogs in sight. Your dog just galloped up out of nowhere!’

  ‘Oh.’ Edge drew in a breath of understanding and eyed the other woman with more interest. ‘Let me guess, you own the zoomer?’

  ‘The—I own Maggie, if that’s what you mean. But she’s a bulldog cross.’

  ‘Cross?’ He snorted, then winced as Matron tugged at the bandage. ‘She’s insane, not cross.’ Donald, who usually surveyed the world with an air of ironic detachment, wasn’t taking the present situation at all well. Edge found herself liking him more now that his usual calm and immaculate facade was ruffled, and was a little ashamed of herself.

  ‘She’s a real problem, Clarissa,’ Matron said sternly. ‘This is the third time in less than two months that I’ve had to treat someone for a bite. You can say all you want that they are just boisterous nips but this one isn’t. Donald’s finger was dislocated and it’s quite possibly broken as well. You realize I am going to have to report this to Katryn? We can’t possibly have a dog here that attacks every other dog and, for that matter, every person who walks with a stick. I’m sympathetic to the plight of rescue dogs, you know I am, but we have to consider the Lawns first. As for you, Donald, I really would have thought you’d know better than to put your hands into a dog fight.’

  ‘The fight was over,’ Donald said drily. ’The dog had turned her energies toward parts to which I am very much attached. I was trying to keep them that way.’

  Edge snorted with laughter, then took pity on Clarissa’s real distress. ‘Couldn’t you muzzle her while she’s out? That would be safest.’

  Clarissa half-gasped. ‘If you saw what she did to the vet when he tried to put a muzzle on her—’

  ‘Well, I can help with that,’ Edge offered spontaneously. ‘I had a Staffie that needed to be muzzled for the vet. In fact, I’ve still got the muzzle somewhere. It’s very wide so with any luck it will fit her. Matron, we can at least try.’

  Matron looked at Clarissa and softened, then glanced at Donald. ‘If Donald reports the attack to the police, there’s not going to be any trying.’

  He stood up and flexed his splinted hand gingerly. ‘Attacking my whippet was one thing. When I swung her up out of harm’s way, that dog of yours went quite deliberately for my bits. She is a complete bampot, a very nasty piece of work indeed.’

  He looked severely at Clarissa, who sat abruptly and put her hands over her face, and shook his head. ‘I’ve got to get Odette to the vet, she might need stitching. Then Joey’s taking me on to the hospital for x-rays and a tetanus shot. If Odette is more badly hurt than I realized, or if the jag really hurts;’

  ‘Of course I’ll pay for everything,’ Clarissa, opening her fingers to peer through, insisted anxiously. ‘Everything! Poor little Odette, she’s so lovely, but you were so quick, you were hauling Maggie away almost the minute she rolled her over.’

  ‘While you ran in the opposite direction,’ he remembered and she shuddered.

  ‘Sometimes it works, sometimes she runs after me. Usually she runs after me.’

  ‘Well, that’s true enough,’ Edge offered helpfully. ’A dog will often break off a threat if it thinks it’s being left behind, you know.’

  ‘Thank you, Barbara Woodhouse. Part of the deal is you getting a muzzle on that foul animal. So what brought you panting in here, anyway?’

  ‘Oh!’ Edge glanced down at her ankle, which throbbed sharply. ‘I turned my ankle, and it’s really painful, so I was hoping Matron would strap it for me.’

  ‘The Zack Blacks?’ Donald asked, not unkindly, and she nodded, biting her lip. ‘I thought you were giving up on them after the Burns Night debacle.’

  ‘You said yourself how good they looked, and it was hardly a debacle, Donald, be fair. We were all a bit whisky taken, and I was far from the only person who lost my balance. I thought if I wore them every now and then I’d manage a full evening in them the next time the chance came up.’

  Matron chuckled at the memory. ‘Falling into William’s lap isn’t really falling, there was no harm done. You can’t just give up on Zack Black shoes!’ She ushered Edge into the chair that Donald had vacated. ‘Not at that price!’

  Edge shook her head. ‘I picked them up for a tenner on the auction after my niece Kirsty tipped me off they were being sent over as part of the police bundle. But—ouch! yes, there—I may give up on them. Topple me once, more fool you. Topple me twice—’

  ‘Just a light sprain.’ Matron decided, and reached for a stretch bandage. ‘You can switch to a tube once this has to come off, but I’ll strap it up firmly for now. Donald, either finish your Rescue Remedy or get out. You’re making the place look untidy and Joey will be waiting for you downstairs.’ She flicked a glance up at Edge as she started deftly strapping her ankle. ‘He doesn’t suffer from shock, apparently. Or doesn’t believe in Bach remedies. Clarissa had hers but Donald knows better, eh?’

  Donald pulled a face at Edge and left obediently, but Clarissa still hesitated. Edge smiled at her.

  ‘I’ll come up to your place as soon as I’ve found the muzzle, how’s that?’ She stood up and cautiously put weight on her ankle, wincing. Matron found her a pair of disposable slippers to wear home, told her not to be such a baby and waved them both out, Clarissa solicitously offering Edge her arm.

  ‘No, Matron’s right, I’m being a wuss but I wish I’d had a proper walking stick in the car! This umbrella one really isn’t up to the job. Once I can get to the car, which is at the bottom of the steps, I’m going park on the verge right outside my door rather than walk all of two hundred yards. Not as if I could leave the car in the visitor parking anyway.’

  ‘Oh, were you actually out shopping when it happened? How awful!’

  ‘Collecting a parcel, a nice short outing for the shoes, but I ended up looking an absolute idiot.’ Edge said frankly. ‘My ankle went over, both knees shot out, I dropped my parcel—my friend Vivian, have you met her yet? She keeps telling me I’m past the age where I can wear extravagant shoes. I’m glad she wasn’t there or she’d still be laughing. And the car park was absolutely full, lots of people staring disapprovingly at the Patsy lookalike wearing cocktail heels through the slush to the post office. Now,’ she finished as they reached the parking lot in front of the main building. ’Am I driving you home?’

  ‘Oh, no, no, I have to collect Maggie. I thrust her into one of the runs and rushed up the stairs after poor Donald. I’m such a fan of his, I’ve had a tiny crush on him for over twenty years, you know. I used to drag Arthur to every show he was in, we saw him three times as Kinickie in Grease, and we went to London to see him in quite a small role in Cats. I was devastated when he gave up performing, he was touring as Rocky in the Rocky Horror Show at the time. I thought he was world-class. When I realized he was living here, and still gorgeous, I could hardly wait to meet him. I didn’t think it would happen like this, he’ll probably never speak to me again. Do you think he’ll be all right?’

  ‘Donald’s tough as old boots,’ Edge was ruthless. ‘He’s made of whipcord and leather, and he’s not usually such a drama queen. It’s probably the shock; he’ll be fine when he’s had a chance to calm down. Especially when he realizes you’re a fan, I never even knew he’d done fun stuff like Grease, I thought he was just known for set design and choreography. You’ll have to tell me all about it but not now, my feet are freezing.’

  She shot Clarissa a mischievous glance. ‘As for your crush, um, you know
they say all the best men are either married or gay? Well, Donald’s never been married…’

  ‘Oh? Ohh.’ Clarissa looked thoughtful. ‘Really? What a shame! Those eyes.’

  Edge was amused. ‘Very blue, but he’s a bit too chilly to be good-looking, to my mind. Which is a very unfair thing to say because I do like him. And he’s not the type to hold a grudge, you’ll be friends yet, dinna fash.’ She opened her car door and threw the umbrella walking stick across to the passenger side. ‘I’ll be at yours in about half an hour. No, that’ll be lunchtime, so why don’t I come up for a cup of tea at around three?’

  ~~~

  Vivian, Edge’s lifelong friend and a fellow resident at Grasshopper Lawns, raised her eyebrows as Edge let her in through the garden door. The small apartment, usually presentably tidy, had half-opened boxes on every chair and table, with a scattering of objects on the floor; while the sleeping alcove, its faux cupboard doors flung wide, looked as if a hurricane had been through it. The concealed box room which opened into the alcove also had its door thrown wide, and the pattern of chaos suggested it was the source of the hurricane.

  ‘Been having a tidy-out?’ She bent at what had once been her waist to pick up a hat and put it helpfully on one of the bookshelves. A generously rounded widow in her late fifties, with a beautiful smile and the fading echo of what had been extraordinary good looks, she now enjoyed the luxury of dressing to please herself and was a bright point on this dull February day in a heavy red fleece and baggy black tracksuit pants sprigged with large orange and red peonies. Her Labrador Buster picked his way cautiously over the debris to the dog bed Edge had bought for his visits, and sank to his haunches to watch developments with interest.

  ‘I really must, some time,’ Edge said ruefully. ‘I’m trying to find Bertie’s old stuff. I know I kept his muzzle and I’ve promised to help Clarissa Hobbes with that little monster of hers. You know she bit Donald?’

  ‘Clarissa did?’ Vivian, deadpan, bent again to pick up a jersey, and shook her head as she looked round for a place to put it down. ‘You must dig for things like a terrier, I can’t imagine what that box-room of yours must look like.’

  ‘Oh hush and put on the kettle, if you’re staying. Clarissa probably would have bitten him as a way of making his acquaintance, she said she’s had a tiny crush on him for years. Did you know he’d been in musicals before? And apparently quite sexy in them.’

  ‘Heavens, yes, sex on a stick. And his voice isn’t bad, with more vocal coaching he could have been very good but he didn’t bother, switched to choreography rather than chase the big time. I think he found the fans a bit unnerving. He likes to keep a distance, does our Donald.’

  Edge hobbled back towards the box room and Vivian, obediently pulling on the pantry doors concealing the kitchenette, gave her a sharp glance.

  ‘What have you done to your ankle?’

  Edge sighed and emerged again to tell her. Vivian was, as expected, briskly unsympathetic.

  ‘I’m not saying they’re not gorgeous, because they are, but Edge honestly, what were you thinking? They ruined Burns Night for you, admit it. And it was such a good night!’

  ‘Oh, wasn’t it? The surprise, when they had a real piper for the haggis! I hope they do that every year from now; it was so much nicer than playing a CD. And Hamish read the ode so well, too, I go to pieces after the second verse and fall over my words, but he stuck with it all the way to the end. But be fair, Vivian, dancing is not at all a Burns Night tradition. I thought we’d be sitting round stuffed to the eyebrows with haggis and shortbread and singing traditional songs in fractured eighteenth-century Scottish. If I’d known there’d be a sudden rush to dance I’d have worn shoes I could dance in. Anyway, you’ve made your point. I don’t believe those horrible shoes were stolen at all, I think they were handed in as weapons of foot destruction and should have been blown up. I may keep one on the mantelpiece as a reminder not to be vain.’

  CHAPTER TWO

  Thursday—Tea with Clarissa

  The dog eyed Edge alertly, then leaned forward and delicately took the proffered treat from the muzzle, stepping back immediately. She was low-slung but thick-bodied with an immensely powerful broad chest and enormous jaws for her size, but there was a clever gleam in her red-rimmed bulging eyes and she had caught on immediately; muzzle appears, treat. Muzzle disappears, no more treats. As for treat in muzzle; yesterday, still belligerently aware she was in disgrace after biting Donald, she had been extremely wary but now, nearing the end of their second session, she was becoming more trusting.

  Her welcome, too, had been entirely different this time round; she had escorted Edge to a chair and sat expectantly in front of her while Clarissa busied herself in the kitchen making tea. Edge scratched the burly little dog behind the ears but Maggie moved back, waited a beat to see if there were any more treats, and then climbed into her basket, sighing heavily.

  ‘It’s like a miracle, Edge, honestly.’ Clarissa appeared, pink-cheeked and beaming, with a tea tray which she set on the coffee table, and perched on a flanking chair. ‘To be able to sit down with another person in the room and not have her barking or growling or having to be shut in the kitchen—well, you saw her yesterday. You’re a regular dog whisperer!’

  ‘Have you really not been able to have visitors at all? Oh, milk and one sugar, that’s lovely.’ She accepted her cup and a shortbread finger. ‘Silly question, but why did you rescue such a belligerent dog in the first place? There are so many dogs in this world which would think this was absolute heaven.’

  ‘Oh, long story.’ Clarissa sighed unhappily but in the face of Edge’s interested silence went on haltingly. ‘She was my daughter’s family dog, but my son-in-law got a transfer to Australia. Maggie would have needed nine months quarantine, it wasn’t to be thought of. I couldn’t take her at the time as I didn’t have a garden and the closest park was always full of dogs off their leads, she’s never been good with other dogs. So instead they put her in a rescue centre. The very worst thing, as it turns out, even if it had been a really good place. She had the dog equivalent of a nervous breakdown and, long story short, I was moving here anyway, with that little enclosed bit at the back, so I brought her. And honestly, Edge, it has been a disaster. She absolutely hates dogs now, and she’s more aggressive than she was before, but it means so much to my daughter. It’s a link with them, of course, but I haven’t been able to make any friends at all.’ Her voice thickened with tears and she shook her head helplessly, unable to go on.

  ‘Well, we’ll get her muzzled.’ Edge said firmly. ‘That’ll take a few more sessions. If we take it slowly, a few minutes at a time, she’ll not be fighting the process and I promise you she’ll get to the point where she’ll not mind it at all. She’s very quick. Bertie took way longer to get to the point Maggie’s already at, eating treats out of it. Once she’s safe you can start walking her with other dog owners here and that’ll get you both out and making friends. All the bull breeds tackle fear and confusion head on, by attacking it. We’ll just stop her feeling afraid or confused.’

  Maggie hopped awkwardly out of her bed and lumbered over to Edge, collapsing onto her feet with a heavy sigh, then wriggled over to offer an expanse of pink-skinned tummy for a scratch. Both women laughed, and Edge looked around with interest. ‘You’re renting my neighbour’s place, aren’t you? Olga Petrotchovitch?’

  ‘Well, the owner is called Olga something. What you said sounded right! It’s a nice little bungalow, really comfortable. If one comes up for sale I’ll buy it, but I’m very happy here in the meantime.’

  ‘But that was never here, surely?’ Edge gestured with her cup at some very beautiful Egyptian tomb items displayed on the sideboard and mounted on the wall behind it.

  Clarissa shook her head, smiling. ‘I didn’t mind taking the place furnished because most of the antiques my husband had collected over the years went to Australia with the family, but I wasn’t giving those up! Arthur and I were both a
rchaeologists. He was quite a lot older than me, a widower, and he’d been on several of the famous digs, back in the pre-war boom period. Those are copies, of course, but very good ones. All Olga’s ornaments and pictures are carefully stored away and I put my stuff up instead. Olga was absolutely fine with it.’ She topped up both their cups and leaned forward, continuing with real enthusiasm.

  ‘You should see the conservatory, it looks like a site office. I’ve got all sorts of stuff lying about as if it was waiting to be classified and sometimes, when the sun is shining, it’s like being back in Egypt. Such happy times! I wasn’t an Egyptologist myself, my doctorate was on the Anglo-Roman period, but I went on an Egyptian dig as a student. That was actually how I met Arthur, he was lecturing at the dig. He used to come on Roman digs with me once he retired but he was always a bit rude about them – well, about the weather. He enjoyed the digs. He enjoyed life immensely. Once he’d retired he threw all his energies into my career and we moved to Scotland about ten years ago so that I could spend all my time on the Antonine Wall. It wasn’t easy, resettling, but we made some very good friends here. In a way it was a bit of a relief when the family went to Australia because my daughter had been nagging at me to move to Devon to be near them and honestly, Edge, I didn’t think I could start all over again in a new place without him, he was very gregarious. If you can help me get Maggie right I’ll be able to get out and about visiting my friends again, and inviting them here.’ She looked bleakly at the dog shifting itself to bring another area of tummy within reach of Edge’s hand.

  ‘Well, I have a dog bed in my place.’ Edge suggested, ‘because Buster, my friend Vivian’s dog, often visits. Now that Maggie seems to have accepted me you can leave her with me every now and then and go visiting your friends. Not to excess, okay, but how about we try her out tomorrow afternoon?’ Clarissa’s shining eyes were her answer.